


Conflict Of Interests

by FloodFeSTeR



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha/Omega, Apocalypse, Claiming, Claiming Bites, Conflict of Interests, Conflicted Dean, Consent Issues, Cuddly Dean, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Romance, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Finger Sucking, First Time, Forced Bonding, Forced Pregnancy, Gentle Dean, Gentle Sex, Good and Evil, Hair-pulling, Hurt Castiel, Hurt Sam Winchester, Implied Castiel/Dean Winchester, Imprinting, Innocent Castiel, Internal Conflict, Intimidation, King of Hell Dean, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mushy, Past Abuse, Power Dynamics, Pregnancy, Protective Castiel, Protective Gabriel, Queen of Hell, Rapture, Rough Oral Sex, Roughness, Scary Dean, Scratching, Sleepy Sex, Slow Romance, Tenderness, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-04-18 03:48:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4690943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FloodFeSTeR/pseuds/FloodFeSTeR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Demons were defined by two classes: Alpha and Omegas. It was believed Alphas died out with Lucifer's imprisonment, Omegas as well. </p><p>But, Roxanne is an Omega. An extremely suppressed one at that.</p><p>Dean is an Alpha. And a very dangerous one indeed.</p><p>*** summary will eventually be edited but don't panic ***</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Roxanne had thus far resigned herself to a typical fate.

Her life had never back pedaled and had never advanced, not for a long time at least. Not until she turned twenty and caught the eye of a local club she could dance in and be as elegant as she deserved to be.

No touching, just pretty lingerie or other clothes that accented what was appealing -- her breasts and hips mainly, face occasionally but she never had much of an ass, just the typical firmness -- and she could dance in dimly lit cubbies or, if paid enough, she would entertain at the craps table in the brighter rooms.

The lounge didn't have much in the way of a name -- Red's Body Poetry, or some cliché shit like that -- but it didn't matter because she was tipped and paid for most in the club. She was a favorite to all, from wealthy Wallstreet Fat Cats to your run-of-the-mill drifter looking for some teasing before he coasted to one of the upstairs room with someone like the bottom shelf girls. Beer in a can to her top shelf champagne taste, Roxanne found it both flattering and degrading.

But now, that was pure flattery with the way she is handled today.

"On your feet you fucking whore!"

The voices are deep and gravelly, just what you expect from demons.

They had woken her from a pitiful sleep, complete with the ache from lying on a hard cot in a back cell; were they in a ship hull? The air stank of brine and salt, so that couldn't be too far off. She hadn't been able to see when they drug her here, or rather just _appeared_ here. She didn't remember getting into a car or anything, she just remembered walking home and then she was being manhandled.

She had still been in her outfit from work -- one of the girls that was frequently jealous had made off with her spare clothes for the walk home -- so things had been extra terrifying. Would they rape her? Would they kill her? No to both, no to anything they wanted from her.

Now, she wishes they would have killed her.

The door hinges creak and scream as the door is basically kicked open by a strong arm, revealing a black room with dim lamps in the corner; there was a sickening sense of foreboding with the room.

She was thrust in, heels making her ankles feel so delicate as she stumbled to catch herself. Her heart was thrumming in her chest as she whipped back to the door, eyes wide in fear as the door slammed shut again; a shiver ran through her at the sound of the locks slamming together.

She held her hands close to her chest, raking broken nails through her hair as she eyed the large bed in the middle of the room. Its round and intimidating, with slightly ruffled red sheets, fat pillows; she's starting to realize how tired she is just by staring at it. There is a small bar to her far right, alcohol shimmering in clear glass bottles while a couch and lounge chair are nestled around a small fireplace. The room is elegant and smells divine, but she's terrified and weak, the straps of her stockings digging into tender thighs; she wishes she could just take this all off, but not in such a weak position.

"They told me they had a tasty piece," the voice is deep and distractingly alluring, but she is on edge. "But damn, they didn't say you came with a _bow_. . ."

She jerks at the feel of a hand caressing her right hip, a spark rough against the fabric separating skin from exposure.

She twists around and stumbles back at the imposing figure of him, the devious smirk on his lips. Even in such plain clothes -- a loose grey shirt and dark jeans -- he is imposing and dangerous; but, fuck, doesn't she want to run her hands through his hair.

Somewhere, inside of her, recognition is fighting for a place beside fear at the fore front of her mind. She's met him before - she'd touched him before but for the life of her, she couldn't really place him. The thought that she knew him didn't really help either, had he been another stalker? No, no he didn't fit the mold even with the current situation.

"What," he taunted. "Kitty can't speak? Come on, baby girl talk to me."

"Why am I here," she blurted out, trembling; so much for self control. "I - I don't understand --"

"I did have you caught, if that's what you're worried about," he sighed flippantly. "I could fucking smell you from here. . .none of the other girls were worth a damn even for demons but you. . .you're prettier. Firmer. I don't know if I want to just take you yet. . ."

She died.

That had to be it, she had died when those men had gotten a hold of her. They had really killed her and she was dead in a gutter somewhere or being fed to fighting dogs.

A thousand different scenarios of death flashing through her mind and the real horror comes from him grabbing her hips. Where's the bravado? Where's that undeniable arrogance and leisure that usually came with her having to deal with people like him; she seemed to deny the word demon. She can usually smooche her way out of a situation like this -- of course, she had never actually _been_ but right now her jaw was sewn shut and she could barely feel her fingers.

But him, she could feel. All of him: Broad shoulders, fine hips, firm chest and the undeniable hardness pressing into her lower abdomen.

When he inhales her scent, she feels like she's cornered by a rabid dog. Its so animalistic and creepy, she doesn't know what to do with herself. This coming from a woman whose whole basis of work means utter control over her body, the control of her own sexuality. But, right now, she feels that she could be a limp noodle and he'd still react in the same way.

"Not some whore," he murmurs and she closes her eyes when he rakes a hand through her hair. "Too pretty for that. . .too classy lingerie. So what are you?"

She opens her eyes again, hazel intimidated by earthy green. "Dancer," she murmured.

He lets out a sudden laugh, no hesitation, throwing his head back and making her jump. He moved with his whole body, hand still on her hip, stroking down her shoulder; just what the Hell was going on here?

"Dancer," he let the word roll around in his mouth for a moment. "Yeah, yeah I can see it," he paused again and then he cocked his head slowly at her. "How 'bout you do a lil dance for me, baby girl?"

Her skin prickled and she went to pull herself away, instincts screaming once again. But he wrapped a strong arm around her hip and pulled her flush against him, crushed the air from her lungs in fear and also blunt force.

"Please," and the begging began.

Fingers raked through her hair, like petting a cat and she tensed against him. Her fingers tangled in his shirt as she stilled, her own eyes widening at the sight of obsidian smirking down at her. No. . .no, no, no this couldn't be happening!

"Afraid so, sweetheart," her eyes pricked with tears as she stared at him in a lost way. He stroked a thumb across her cheek, almost tenderly. "I'm the King of Hell. This is real," he cocked his head and then slowly, but surely, a malicious grin settled on his jaw. "And you're mine now."

She trembled in his arms, a familiar feeling welling up inside of her at his touch. Roxanne was never a woman of instinct, she had spent years to keep her sexuality under her control and her's alone. She never opened her legs to just anyone that pleased her, even if they stoked the fire just right.

She wasn't an Omega, refused to accept the fact.

But the distant crooning in the back of her head was beginning to preach otherwise. It made her slowly notice the way he smelt, the hooded feature of his eyes, the way he heated under her touch like he was meant to.

"Please," she whispered. "Please don't -"

"Hush," he murmured, brushing back a strand of hair from her eyes; there was a hue of blue around the edges of her irises, giving him all the confirmation he needed. "Don't worry, I won't be too rough."

" _I won't be too rough._ "

Like that was of any comfort for her.

She gave a light -- involuntary -- mewl at the feel of him cupping her sex.

She gripped his shirt, all common instincts out the window with the realization of estrous; he could smell it like the perfume on her skin. His middle and index finger pressed against her, rubbing rough fabric against her tenderness. His eyes bore into her with amusement, not lust as she expected. He liked to tease and toy, utter control with such a simple act and it was what he pulled from this.

Well, he also gained the right to mate with a rare Omega creature. Demons had always been a problem for her, ever since she had turned fourteen. They would come after her and she usually had an easy way to get away or suppress the urges to just fuck but he probably didn't even know he was an Alpha and she wasn't denying this.

An Alpha demon, she hadn't even known they existed anymore, they supposedly died with Lucifer being imprisoned. But here he was, letting her gently rock against his hand, pulling out the sudden flush of slick and she was unable to resist.

  
"Now that we're acquainted," he smirked. "I'm Dean."

 

~~~

 

He perked up at the sound of a woman's shrill scream, having no doubt it was the girl he'd seen his former henchman dragging from the cell beside his moments ago.

Dean worked fast, he'd give him that.

But that same admiration was what had him trapped in his own damn 'palace' in the first place. Under estimating loyalty was another fault all his own. He had thought Dean would be his best buddy until the end, he hadn't really thought he'd let the thought of ruling Hell settle so deeply in his brain.

Never underestimate a Winchester was the moral of the story.

 

_"We are trying."_

Crowley glared at the sticky, rusted floor to the unheard voice. "Quiet, Castiel, if he catches you on the angel waves we're both done for," dumbass.

_"I have no fears of Dean, even in his current state."_

"You should," Crowley snapped, eyeing the guard taking his leisurely stroll past his cell.

 

_"Sam said Dean had a woman taken from the streets. . .was he correct?"_

Crowley basically eye fucked the guard until he rolled his own eyes, continuing his route instead of loitering in front of Crowley's holding block.

The chain rattled above him as Crowley got into a more comfortable position on the floor; thankfully Dean hadn't had his arms bound above his head and chose the more reasonable route. He could sit and stand, walk about a foot but there was no way he was getting out of this cell alive, not with Dean running around on full blast. What confused him most why he was kept alive at all, probably to be made an example of.

"She reeks, if you know what I mean," Crowley sighed, bored already. "You don't have much time with this one."

 

_"We will be too late."_

Crowley shrugged, knowing full well that fluffy winged douchebag could see him; if only he had the same pleasure. "Not really," he paused when he heard Dean's laugh faintly echo through the halls. "He's not inclined to kill her, she's not just some lil tart."

_"I know."_

"Obviously."

The conversation is rather bland, to Crowley anyway, Castiel and his constipation probably believes this is a very emotional exchange.

It'd been going on for months now -- how many, Crowley can no longer properly remember, but he's guessing its just over a year -- since Dean had taken the throne and ascended to King quite easily. Like anyone would appose a Winchester to begin with, let alone Dean and the Mark, the demon blood, the Knight. He was a force to be reckoned with in all reality which was why Crowley had not put so much effort into fighting like Sam and love-sick Castiel had when it came time to de-throne Crowley.

He didn't want to fucking die.

 

_"We've found Gabriel."_

What was usually acid to his ears was now the string of the holy choir. "Then hurry it up, boys," Crowley growled. "My ass is getting numb on this end."

There was an oddly tinkling laugh on the other end and it definitely wasn't Castiel.

**_"Don't worry, Crowley my deae, I will ride in on my elegant moose and save your flat ass."_ **

Crowley only sighed, tuning out the cackle of an Archangel and settling for the moans of pain and the scream of the terrified human. "No point, girl," he murmured.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned out way fluffier and also serious than I intended but eh, lets roll with it.
> 
> And patience with Sabriel, I've never written for them before. My excuse is that the tone of this is definitely serious so the relationship fluff going on in here will be background noise for the time being.
> 
> This is not a solid 'lets-fuck-and-make-demon babies' thing either, though that's a big part of it. There is an actual depth to the plot.

" _Please_ ," she begs. "Please, I don't want this."

He chuckled darkly as she stumbled back from his searching hand, the backs of her knees connecting with the edge of the bed.

His fingers shine from her slick, his tongue rolling around the appendages languidly. Dear Lord, if that wasn't the sexiest thing she had ever seen in her life. It had to be the estrous, she could only think of getting out of here intact or giving herself fully to this complete Alpha. With the self control and how meticulously he was moving about her, he had yet to tap into the blood that made him what he was. If he knew, he would be rutting her without a single moment of hesitation, he would have mated her the moment she entered his territory.

But he had to know, had to understand why his pupils blew wide and that incessant -- involuntary -- purring had started in his chest.

"I think you do," he hummed, taking two slow steps forward. "Otherwise, you wouldn't be so fucking wet when I wasn't even touching you."

She let out a hearty moan when he craned over her, left hand digging into the sheets, right hand back to pawing at her dripping sex. His fingers teased her tender lips through the stockings, had her twitching against his hand. She didn't want to and yes she fucking did all at the same time.

Self control out the window.

"See, baby girl," his tongue struck out just under her ear and she inhaled sharply. "I know what you think I don't. . .I know what you are," she whimpered when he easily tore through fabric, fingers sunk home inside of her; an entirely new feeling. "Omega. . .I don't even know the full dynamics but just the remembrance of what I've been told and your smell make my cock as hard as granite. And you're gonna help with that, understand?"

She shakes her head fruitlessly, her hips hunching towards his hand as innocent tingles of pleasure shoot through her. Compare a hand as skilled as that to your own and you feel so inadequate, Roxanne knew she did now with the experience slowly dragging in and out of her. Despite her insistent denial of helping him with anything, a yearning had blossomed deep in her chest, had her aching and begging for nothing but his body against hers, being mated by him --

"Don't worry," she briefly cringed, grounded once by the reminder that he was able to read her thoughts so easily with the ingrained bond without them even having mated. "I'm gonna mark you up," to prove his point, his teeth teased the skin of her throat, tugging lightly. "And the mating will come. . .just slow. Heat or not, I won't just go at ya. I am a gentleman to some aspect."

The simple words sent a flush of slick against him, made him choke on his words and growl. She meweled and squirmed beneath him, begging with unseen or heard signals to just be blatantly fucked. Her own nostrils flared with sudden musk in the air; he was thrown into her bundle of heat. The thought of pairing with a fresh Alpha spurred her on and Roxanne nearly cried with the urges.

"Please," she whimpered, her hands trembling as she tried to find the right hold. "Please. . .Dean?"

His eyes flickered to hers, the green bright, nearly radioactive and she came instantly.

Her eyes rolled back into her head and she stilled against his hand, walls clenching around his fingers, producing that pungent scent of female arousal into the air. Her own hand had never been able to do that before, it was an entirely new feeling. She'd never been in heat, had never had a demon with the right blood. The only demons that had tried to come after her were Beta's, run-of-the-mill demons that couldn't get it up even when they smelt her.

"Fuck," Dean grunted, tongue lapping at the sweat beading under her chin. "Just had ta bring ya in here all dolled up like that. . ."

His eyes raked over her, the blatant black lace and  ruined stocking; they'd brought him her coat to confirm her scent but they hadn't told him she was basically naked in that cell.

He would have come for her sooner, or not, maybe.

He was lost in the subtle twitch of muscles beneath the skin over her abdomen. They rolled when she came back to life, squirming beneath him as he absentmindedly stroked her pussy again. His nostrils flared with the smell, feeling more primal than he ever had and it was a little disconcerting for someone who generally prided himself on control in the situation of fucking.

"Please," and there she was, begging again. It was kind of cute. "You have to. . ." Her fingers found the wrist of the hand rubbing between her legs; she was flushed.

"Ah, ah, ah," he pulled his hand from her, glee sparking in his eyes as she whined and arched in genuine despair. "Slow and steady wins the race," the kiss he placed against the corner of her mouth released a torrent of pheromones.

He chuckled at how easily she unraveled; the men said she didn't even try to fight them when they snatched her up, like putty. Playing dead, as if she were an opossum, it was an animal reaction and she was far from an animal.

Well, her current state was not a good example.

She squeaked and panted as he climbed over her, blinking rapidly when the bed trembled at him settling heavily against the pillows.

She craned her neck back, seeing him smiling at her from her upside down position. He patted the pillows beside him and something had her purring in her chest, twisting effortlessly to climb up beside him; she didn't even jostle the bed. He watched in minor fascination and mostly amusement as she began to knead the pillows around them, much like a cat would. Her eyes continuously flickered to his, almost wary and he supposed she had every right to be.

The more she looked at him, the longer the glances grew and he noticed how blue her eyes were becoming. The color was rippling and reflecting like water as it leeched out the hazel of her irises, encroaching from the outside. It was a beautiful color, he supposed, aquamarine. She was close to being fully receptive, the thought turned him on more than he really cared to admit.

She put her back to him, ready to curl up on the other side of the bed but he easily captured her hips with an arm, pulling her against him. Her eyes flickered up to him, blatant fear on her face now; it made him chuckle.

"Roxanne," she murmured, her eyes focused on her hand that was curling in his shirt.

"I know," his thumb stroked her hip. "Do you even eat?"

She didn't say anything right away, he almost thought she was asleep. "I have a. . .strict diet for my job," she murmured, nuzzling against him.

"Nothing?"

She chuckled but didn't say anything and he didn't really want her to. She was skin and bones, she needed food and he would make sure she got it. He felt like he was talking about fattening up a pig for slaughter. Dean shook his head, watching her tug at a loose thread on his collar; she definitely needed something to hide those cheek bones. Far too thin for his tastes.

He tensed when he felt her tongue drag over the stubble under his jaw, fingers digging into her hips. "Stop," he rumbled.

Did she just whine? Yes. . .yes she did. And if his cock didn't fucking jump at the sound.

"Look, there's nothing more I'd like to do than fuck you into the ground," her breath hitched. "But you'll just have to wait."

Complete shit to an Omega, but he wanted to wait just a little longer.

She wasn't fully receptive, just a couple of more hours and he would fuck her until she couldn't remember her name, his name or even what fucking planet she came from.

Honestly, if he had known this undeniable and volatile urge came with being a demon, he would have saddled up and let Sam cure him months ago. But no one had the decency to inform him he would have a hard on for a month when her fucking scent came from outer space.

The other demons had started going into a frenzy one night while he had just been lounging on his new throne. He hadn't even registered that anything was out of the ordinary until one of the demons snapped and ripped the throat out of one of the vessels in the room.

Color him curious.

And leave it to Crowley to have to explain to him what that fucking smell was coming and going around him. He had been so volatile, he'd almost ripped Crowley's head from his shoulders and then he spoke that one word: **Omega**. Several hours of demon biology lessons later, Dean had sent his men out to hunt for this Omega. She was quite clever at suppressing the instinct to hunt for an Alpha and he had yet to realize he was the first in several hundred years until. . .well, just a moment ago.

Big fucking reality check, boy.

"I've never," she hesitated. "I've never had sex before. So. . ."

He chuckled and stroked a hand down her spine, producing chills all across her skin. "I know, sweetheart," she cooed, he'd never been so tender with a lover since being a demon. "That's another reason we're gonna go slow. . .I have more self control than just taking your instincts and riding with them."

She nodded softly, still looking both scared and incredibly aroused. He didn't know his self control was this good, he would have to give himself an applause later for this.

"I'm. . ." She paused. "I'm going to sleep now," he expected it.

"I'll be here sweetheart," he murmured, clenching his teeth when her leg wormed between his, brushing up against the bulge in his jeans.

He said nothing.

 

~~~ 

"Nothing. . . _fuck!_ "

Castiel jerked at Sam's angry yelp from the archives, peering over at him. The younger Winchester was leant over a thick book, holding his head in his hands, fingers tangled in his hair. His shoulders rose and sagged in heavy breaths, only seizing when Gabriel's hand ghosted over his shoulders. Something he said must have soothes his frustration because Sam nodded, breathing in deeply before he started flipping through the book again.

Gabriel sighed and shrugged down towards Castiel, slouching into the chair across from him with. . .coffee?

"So I take it you explained the dynamics of Dean getting a hold of this Omega," Gabriel thrummed his fingers on the glowing table top.

Castiel sighed and gently closed the book in front of him, stroking the cover reverently; how he loved human literature these days. He had been nose deep in books for months now, trying to find a way to get around the Omega problem. The thought had only occurred to him a few months after Crowley contacted him via the angel highway. Crowley smelt her first, the first Omega in years coming into her heat cycle. It may have been a year and a half after the thought but she had been increasingly hard to find, she knew how to hide herself from all walks of life.

Until now.

"He did not like that after thought that Dean was the only Alpha free," Castiel shook his head. "If Lucifer were free, it'd mean the apocalypse. A fight between Dean and he. . .I don't even want to imagine."

Gabriel chuckled and Castiel glared at him. "I'd have to be there to see that," he hummed, cocking his head. "I think Dean would win."

"I am not about to begin a bet with you against Dean and our brother," Castiel grumbled.

"Castiel, the love sick puppy," Gabriel cackled, drawing Sam's attention. "Look, I know you're mad about Dean picking this little Omega --"

"Roxanne--"

"Roxanne," Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Over you, but don't pass up on a decent bet, okay? Who would win, what do you think?"

"Are you seriously doing this," Sam snapped in disbelief from the doorway; both angels snapped to attention. "Dean has her, that's a given. Lucifer is still in his cage and we have to get Crowley out of there. Can we just focus?"

"I'm surprised you're still wanting Crowley to be free," Gabriel hummed. "Little moose, he stole your big brother away just as Michael stole Lucifer. I was pretty pissed. . .even though Lucifer is a giant douche."

Sam pinches the bridge of his nose. "Gabe," he groaned. "I don't blame Crowley, Dean would have left no matter what and he would have turned into a demon despite the fact. We just need to get him out, we'll worry about this Roxanne afterwards."

"She will be impregnated before tomorrows end," Castiel stood, flushed with annoyance. "We should be rescuing her first."

"And how do you expect us to pry her out of his hands before then," Sam growled. "He will kill us without remorse over her, we worry about what we can first and that's Crowley. Castiel, I'm sorry."

The angel shook his head, looking down at Gabriel, who gave him a deeply sympathetic look. "Do not look at me like that," Castiel manages before he turned for the bedrooms.

Gabriel and Sam watched him go with mixed looks; Sam was agitated, that was a given. Gabriel looked to his little moose, quirking his lips in the corner as he rose to his feet. Sam didn't look down at him until Gabriel brushed a hand over his chest.

"Be easy on him," Gabriel murmured. "He doesn't understand what he feels for your brother and its frustrating to him."

Sam sighed but didn't push Gabriel away, just let him lean on him without deep affection. "I get it," he sighed. "But. . .priorities," he felt like shit for it.

Gabriel chuckled and pulled away from him, patting Sam's broad chest and lingering before he looked back in the direction of the bedrooms. It was weird seeing Castiel this way; he had been just as distraught when they found Gabriel buried beneath seals and traps.

"Just be a little more gentle with him. The girl is more important than you realize but Dean would kill us before we got close. We get who we can."

Sam placed a hand over Gabriel's on his chest, leaning back on the door frame. "I should apologize," he whined lowly.

"Yes, yes you should you mean little moose."

"Little," Sam snorted.

"Yes, little moose. Accept my love."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's the smut. A lot of it. And maybe Roxanne seems a little bland but she becomes more human soon. Yes, she's in heat and it is what makes her so scattered but she isn't too far from bland and that is explained much later.
> 
> Demon!Dean may seem a little OOC, to me anyway, but there's mostly a lot of conflict for him. Another tid bit that is explained later.

She wakes to pleasure already rocketing through her, sleepy awareness being clouded by instincts pressing slick out against him.

She whimpers and her fingers tighten in the sheets, head craning up to stare at him between her thighs. His eyes flicker up to hers, head slightly cocking as he eats her out expertly. He smirks in a small way and focuses on her clit, teeth scraping over it and arching her spine. She gasped as she threw her head back, a silent moan sliding through her teeth, hips rolling against his tongue.

She released a shuddering moan at last when he pulled his right hand up, nails raking deliciously up her trembling belly. The thin threads of pain and pleasure crossed, blurred and exploded with something so simple as his large hand eclipsing her left breast. She shuddered and covered his gently kneading hand with one of her own, keeping herself propped with a questionable elbow. The harsh fabric of her bra bruised her tender nipple, making her hiss and jerk in discomfort but she almost begged harder.

"Speak, baby girl," her eyes hooded at the sight of her slick on his lips; shiny. "What you want me to do," his tongue struck out, dragging up her folds so slowly she couldn't breath.

"Dean," she begged his name, bucking her hips against him when he went back in. "Oh Gods," she let her head rock back, eyes closing.

Nothing had touched her down there, especially anyone's mouth.

His teeth nipped and his lips pressed against hers, creating pressure where her slick prevented the roughness she was denied with his wet tongue. The more he lapped and groaned, the stronger his scent became and the more prolonged her climax seemed to become, the further it came out of reach.

She moved her hand from atop his -- he seemed to be doing a good enough job on his own -- and gave a small cry as the fingers found her clit. Again, her own hand seemed so inadequate compared to his but she finally came and that was the important part.

She went slack in the overly dressed sheets and pillows, shivering as he lapped at her belly like he was cleaning her, thorough and sensual, right up to where he claimed her lips, being sure she tastes herself on his mouth; she was sweet.

She arched up as he unclasped her bra, lips still melded with his in a clash of teeth and tongue as the lace drug over her skin. His teeth nipped and ground her sensitive skin, urging her head to the side as he lavished her throat in soft, insistent kisses. She was a furnace under his touch, bucking and mewling, feeling something new and painful in her gut; the need to be impregnated. For a brief moment, she was scared, she didn't want this, it was exactly what she had been fighting to avoid for years but it wasn't like she could just stop him --

" _Ah!_ " she cried out when he swiped his tongue over the soft nub of her nipple.

He let out a rumbling chuckled a he suckled at her, nipping and bracing a strong hand against her back, pulling her against him. She threaded a hand in his hair, sighing at the softness and wanting to snarl at the utter ache between her thighs of not being filled. He ignored her begging and switched to her opposing breast, his fingers massaging at her back and bringing a more tender feel to what should be straight fucking.

He pulled away to bore his eyes into hers and she could no longer see green, it was solid black and beautiful, reflecting her glowing blue eyes like a mirror. Her eyes flickered around him, grinding her wet sex against his bare knee and she now noticed he was just as clothed she was. She ran a hand down his chest, thumb stroking the tattoo on his chest, the pliable flesh of his own belly, breath hiking and panting when she saw his engorged member. It made her instinctually spread her legs, her nails digging into his skin and a whine settling in her throat.

"I was asleep," he purred, grabbing himself and making sure she watched him stroke slowly, pre-cum beading up on his tip. "And then this fucking _smell_ wakes me up, never had that happen before," he presses back down against her, slowly dragging his tip up and between her folds, had her grunting and bucking beneath him but it was useless. "But I just. . .fuck, I couldn't help myself. But you already knew that."

"Dean please," she almost snarled. "Please fuck me."

"Calm down, baby," she did growl then, fed up with games but she didn't want to be punished. "Slow and steady wins the race, remember?"

She rocked her head back and forth and then she tensed when she felt his head slowly pressing against her, eyes widening at his size and the grind, veins standing out on her throat as he rocked into her.

It was so fucking slow, but she was spread like never before.

She felt muscles quiver, felt some tear, felt him clear her hymen without so much as a courtesy warning. Pain and pleasure knocked again, her nails breaking skin on his arms until he was buried to the hilt and completely stretching her. Everything ached and felt so damn right all at the same time, she couldn't contain the tears that broke out on her pretty face.

"Hey," _was that genuine concern in his voice?_ "Hey, you okay?"

Her response was to clench his cock and he groaned, slowly pulling out and she whined at the loss, releasing a fresh moan as he sunk back into her.

Why had she ever fought this? Oh right, she didn't just want to create babies but Gods he filled her so perfectly; she was foolish to allow _love_ flicker through her emotions. Her nails raked over his back as she meweled, hooking her ankles behind his back and somehow burying him deeper inside of her.

" _Harder_ ," she begged, eyes rolling back when his teeth nipped and clawed at her shoulders. "Dean please --"

"I heard ya," he growled and it only made her jerk her hips harder against his.

Roxanne could feel her orgasm welling up, crashing against the levee and she welcomed it with every grunt from Dean's lips. His hips snapped hard against hers and she could almost feel him reach her womb, greedily purred at the thought of his sperm inside of her.

She moaned and flexed as she came, letting out a shrill scream when his teeth tore through her skin on her shoulder, possibly reaching bone but she was too awash in orgasmic pleasure to really care.

Blood seeped from around his lips and down the curve of her throat, into her hair and into the sheets.

Roxanne arched against him, hooded eyes finding his face and he was looking down at where he was thrusting into her. He grabbed her right knee and pushed it up to her chest, drawing out a long, deep moan from her chest at the new angle.

His hips began to loose their rhythm but made up for it in strength, sending quick jolts of pain up her spine, resonating with the fresh, raw mark he was currently bathing with his tongue, teeth still latched in until he roared, releasing a torrent of cum into her. It heated her from the inside out, almost uncomfortable in its temperature but she grabbed his face, pressing tender kisses to his face while he brushed her off to lick away the blood that was wetting her shoulder.

"God damn," he rumbled, left hand raking up her ribs, down to grab tight to her quaking thigh.

Blood stained his lips and she licked it away, tasting her own copper mark on him. It seemed to make something more. . . _stir_ inside of Roxanne but she would worry about that later.

He rolled his hips against hers and she gasped, arching and then looking up almost shyly from under her damp bangs but the unmistakable glaze of lust was clouding better judgement. She stroked his skin lazily, wincing when the flex of muscles brought a pulse of pain from where he had bit through tender skin and almost bone.

Part of the process, she knew, but it didn't lessen the pain and embarrassment from letting it happen.

She squeaked in minor surprise when he kissed her again, feeling her belly stir and she rocked her hips up, tightening her thighs when she felt him hardening inside of her again. This time was faster, frantic with mewls and growls before he spilled his seed inside of her again, finally pressing all of his weight on top of her. She wiggled and groaned, pressing a weak hand up against him, a signal to move.

He grunts and does so, eyes flickering back to green while they still reflect the harsh aquamarine of her eyes. They would remain as such now, showing she was claimed where scent of him didn't get the message across: She was a mate, not a beta, an Omega and she belonged to him.

She felt. . .pathetic.

He gathers her in his arms and she is still surprised by the tenderness, her eyes remaining open long after he has decided to fall asleep. Her fingers flex against his chest for a time, nails briefly testing the strength of his skin before she sits up to stare at him. He's worthy of being Alpha, she supposed, but there remains that sick feeling that she blatantly gave herself to a complete stranger. She always wanted her first time to be more. . .romantic, she supposed. He tried though, so that must count for something. But with the still pungent mix of heat still hanging in the air, she could understand.

Not every demon -- an Alpha especially -- could put off such a pull for as long as he did.

It brought a small margin of comfort, which was the only thing that let her cling to him while she slept.

 

 ~~~

 

She wakes to a subtle wash of smells this time, most prominent the still dull scent of her slick staining the sheets but there is a growing smell of actual food and her stomach growls at her as she sits up.

She yawns pathetically, running a quick hand through her hair, looking for Dean; the bed is cold where he had been lying when she fell asleep. Her heart rate picks up when she doesn't see him, but her eyes do hone in on the source of delicious smells: A tray of food on a small table beside the door, still warm judging by the subtle shift in air around the meat.

"Its yours," his rumbling tone stifles any urges she had to eat and replaces them with that undeniable urge. "I really do admire your eagerness," he chuckles.

She presses her lips into a thin line at the still-warm tingle of a bathed womb, aching for more -- she needed it as much as he did and she knew it. He's sitting at one of the chairs around a dwindling fire -- small in the first place -- and only looks up once she's standing fully in front of him.

His eyes rake over her marked and flushed skin, smells the heat of him inside of her and his nostrils flare like an animals. There is amusement on his face and his musk fills the air at the sight of her, which causes her irises to be shot through with bright veins of fluorescent sapphire. He is wearing loose boxer briefs but they are no barrier to her, feeling him through the rough fabric on her drenched sex when she straddles him.

He groans and his hips buck up to her, causing delicious friction he tries to delay by grabbing her hips and pushing her back to his knees. "Roxanne --"

"Why do you try to prolong this," she finally finds her voice and it is to snap at him. "Why do you try to make this more than it is?"

He cocked his head slightly at her outburst. "You would rather me just fuck you senseless," he was making a small swirl pattern on her hip and it had her core a furnace. "Would you rather me just take my cock and shove it inside of you, have a big frenzy fuck and then cum in you, is that what you want?"

"Yes," she snarled, whimpering and squirming on his lap with need. "Fuck, yes!"

He purred once, moving his right hand agonizingly slow towards the apex of her slit, eyes watching her as she arched against his hand. Her thighs remained spread by his own, preventing friction when he abruptly took his hand away, which made her more angry than before.

"You're already pregnant," he murmured, swiping his fingers against her lips, watched her greedily grab his wrist and clean his fingers. "What's the need?"

 

 _Was he_ fucking _with her?_

"You are Alpha," she rocked forward, her warm folds brushing up and down his cock with her ministrations; he had to lose the briefs soon. "I am Omega," she leaned forward, her tongue teasing the smooth space just under his ear. "You are the beginning, I am the end. Its a business deal," her heart twisted at the way he gasped then growled in her ear at her tongues prodding. "I give you offspring. . .and you ensure that I'm pregnant."

"You are," he grabbed her hips and she yelped, arms flailing before he basically slammed her down against the floor. "I am trying to have self control and you are making this increasingly difficult with the fucking smell and --"

"Then fuck me," she growled and dug her nails into his skin. "Fucking fuck me!"

He was at conflict, she understood but enough was enough; she hated herself for the thought. She panted heavily and the muscles in her stomach contracted and twisted with each delicious pump of musk into the air. Her skin was so fucking hot under his touch, the roughness and ache of being thrown to the floor long gone.

When he tore the briefs away, she sighed at the sight of him, opened herself for him and then moaned low in her throat when he filled her in one stroke.

Her pussy ached and spasmed around him, empty and full at each stroke. She arched against him, drawing his lips to hers and stroking the back of his head as she did so. His tongue moved against hers, tasting of ash and her arousal; it only served to make her hips thrust harder against him. Her mind was a frenzy of what was right, what was wrong, how she wanted nothing but him and she only knew his God damn name.

"Look at me," he breathed and she realized her eyes had closed.

Her lids fluttered open, taking in every detail of his green irises until she was cumming and howling, feeling full of cum and yet she was still unsatisfied. Roxanne continued with eye contact, unable to look away as she rode through her second orgasm; he had yet to seem to even reach a peak.

The floor ached, her hips were bruised, the constant movement had his mark seeping blood again but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered but the way his cock was swelling, pressing up against her g-spot at every stroke and finally, after her fourth or fifth orgasm, he came inside of her without a dominating roar. His act came with him burying his face deep against her throat, suckling and nibbling what precious skin he could.

"Feels so fucking good," its drawn through a moan and she runs her fingers across his back, clinging to him on the hard floor. "Roxanne," he buries his fingers in her hair, tugging her lips against his feverishly.

When she is sated in her frenzy to fuck, Roxanne finds herself starving. Dean peels himself from her, the heavy scent if sweat and cum soaked into their skin. She groans when he pulls out of her, crushing her thighs together as she stands. He just watches her as she stumbled towards the food he had brought in, no doubt it was cold by now but she didn't seem to care.

Dean sighs as she picks at the food and in turn picks himself up.

He's far from drained but there is still a nagging human part of him that demands sleep. He finds his jeans, smirking slightly at the way her heat now stains him. He'd never had such animalistic and feral senses now, even as a demon alone he had never been able to smell something so simple. Maybe he had just never acknowledged it. It didn't matter now, everything was her, everything was about her and protecting her until she produced a child. Roxanne seemed easy enough to handle and he had no doubts she would not risk leaving his sights until they had both fulfilled their parts in this.

"Demon babies," he sighed as he sat down in his chair again. "Never say never I suppose. . ."

 

~~~ 

"Its subsided."

"For the moment," she murmured.

He's watching her from the fireplace, watches her readjusting her little nest with clean sheets he brought in for her. She's mildly annoyed by the way he watches her but what's most important is the pillows she's trying to adjust. Everything is wrong, no longer saturated in their scent and it's driving that irrational part of her brain insane. It has to be just so and she has to have him with her again, but he cannot help her -- why the fuck not, she has no idea.

"I can't. . .smell us," she whined, nails pulling at thread as she clenched a fist. "Its not ours anymore and I can't. . ."

She jerks when she feels the brush of him, her pupils swallowing up what the azure cannot and it flares bright -- supernova -- at the sight of him. He chuckles and places a firm hand against the left side of her chest, easily pushing her back into the bed and claiming her lips. She purrs -- nearly literally -- and reaches for what she can. Clothes constrict her and him as well, it makes her feel like she's suffocating with the heat and the ache --

She gasps when he pulls away, like he has offended her in some way. His eyes sparkle with glee and need, bringing a fresh well of hormones to the surface, has them clawing out of her womb. She will be terribly sore and regretful once she has lost this heat, other facts suppressed by the need to breed.

That almost makes her giggle.

She breaths out slowly as he coaxes her to sit up, his eyes lazily rolling down her when he tugs her shirt over her head. No bra, no need and he seems to salivate at the sight of her; they are already tender. He ducks his head to nibble at the small -- soon to grow -- buds, grabbing a handful of her ass to help her wiggle down into a more comfortable position. Roxanne runs her fingers through his hair, enjoying the way he pays such careful attention; a wince when his teeth come into play but she isn't protesting yet.

Her eyes fly open as she is easily flipped onto her stomach, a yelp coming from between her teeth when she catches a mouthful of thread. He hooks an arm around her waist, hiking her lower half up to her knees. When the shorts come off, she trembles and moans, a flush of slick soon sliding languidly down the insides of her thighs. A strange prick shoots up her spine when she feels and hears him inhaling her scent, ass squirming in the air and begging for attention. Just a little friction, just a tiny --

" _Ah!_ " She cries out as soon as his tongue strikes up her slit, finding her opening and diving in. "Dean!"

"Quiet," he growls and she bites her lip, fingers curling in the sheets.

She jerks away briefly when his tongue laps at her sex in an aberrant way. Its almost creepy but she's receptive and rocking back against his mouth, moaning and gasping when a finger -- followed quickly by a second -- slither into her.

She bites her lips once again to keep from begging, wary despite the fact with his teeth so close to a tender area. She begins to peak, starts to feel that rush and the slick becomes copious, but he pulls away and she lets out a disgruntled shriek. Before she can push herself up like she wants to, he pushes her head back into the sheets and she stills with her own human instincts.

"Stay down," he orders; she feels a momentary chill.

Roxanne cums the moment he slams into her -- and she means _slam_. She sobs in utter pleasure, from orgasm to the way he produces friction with his engorged cock; she can't pick a victor. But there are shocks of pain in her pelvis as he produces no more foreplay and mercilessly strikes her. Each thrust has her crying out, her eyes squeezed tight, the sound of his grunts and the squeak of the bed all she can hear aside from her own noises.

She doesn't even open her eyes when his right hand flattens between her breasts and pulls her up, creating a new angle and a new orgasm. She shutters around him, forcing out uncoordinated thrusts but the strength has her nearly screaming, the feel too much. Her right hand eclipses his, lefr hand moving back ro his hips as she cries out his name ro an empty room.

Its so fucking hot in here, keeps her arousal on point no matter how many times she cums on him; she's not complaining.

When she feels the now familiar heat of him flushing her insides, she is content and he seems to be because he lets her go. With a soft cry, Roxanne feels him leave her, the muscles in her pussy clenching, trying to continue to milk what isn't there.

The bed sinks behind her and her lids are heavy, but she feels a heavy arm encircle her hip, pull her back against him; he's still hard against the crevice of her ass. There is an instant relaxation of her muscles when he sighs into her neck, his nose brushing her roots softly. She likes the way he feels against her back, presses into him and almost smiles.

"You're gonna shower with me when you wake up," he has no desire to sleep it seems.

She nods meekly. "No protests," she is sticky with sweat and cum. "You'll be there when I wake up, yes?"

"Yes."

She nods again, this time lax in sleep. For days her time would consist of sex and sleep, she didn't know whether to cry or be greedy about it.

She'd do both.


	4. Chapter 4

Roxanne finds herself sitting alone in the room the next day, fully clothed but still in heat; she's almost panting with the strain.

Her hips squirm but her right hand absentmindedly strokes her belly under her shirt, feeling an odd sensation deep inside of her. She was pregnant, something she had fought for eight years was so easily swept out from under her and she felt. . .content. Her need to control her body, deny her instincts -- her _birthright_ , her lot in life -- and her basic free will were all taken from her in just two days and she was okay with it.

Roxanne was kind of glad her heat clouded her judgement, made it real easy to forget about her predicament with the perpetual slick busy soaking into her shorts, making her moan as she rocked her hips against her hand.

"Seems someone's bored."

Roxanne opened her eyes, seeing Dean shutting the door to the bedroom behind him; she could smell the thick, heady scent of other male demons past the door and immediately jumped to her feet, crushing herself against Dean. Her heart was hammering wildly in her chest, fearful of the other males so close to her. She was too vulnerable right now, and would be within the next few weeks; she didn't want to be without Dean.

Dean grunted but wrapped an arm around her, guiding the tiny dancer to the chairs in front of the fireplace; there was no fire, only cold ash. She settled nicely in his lap, feeling him hardening in his jeans but he didn't initiate anything, just stroked her thigh lazily.

Roxanne's nostrils flared against the collar of his shirt, her cheeks hot as she continued down his chest before he pulled her back up. His face was creased in agitation, but she didn't think it was for her.

"Who were you talking to," she murmured softly.

He cocked his head softly at her, raking his fingers gently through her hair; the strands were so dark, when they caught the light they appeared as dark as blood.

"Just a little business," he told her. "Don't you worry about it."

"You reek," she frowned. "You don't smell like you."

He smirked a little. "Well then, how about we take care of the smell and this," her breath hitched and shuddered as his fingers wormed between her thighs, teasing her sex, the scent soaking into his fingers. "In the shower?"

She looked up from under her bangs, biting her lip to keep from begging. Roxanne rested her head against his chest, raising a hand to tighten in his shirt. She craned her neck and swiped her tongue against his throat, the stubble a harsh abrasion on the tender surface of her tongue.

His chest rumbled and he let his head rest back, let her adjust herself to nibble at his throat, his ear, his groans making her tremble. Roxanne gasped but continued her prodding as he wiggled a finger through the side of her soaked crotch, inserting a finger into her. The angle was awkward but she was sensitive and moaned when he inserted a second finger, languidly stroking her insides like he was doing an examination.

"For practically being a virgin," a thrill sent straight to her pussy. "You know how to use that pretty mouth of yours."

She wiggled down in his lap, begrudgingly moving from his fingers but she was busy unbuttoning his shirt. "I learn fast," she mumbled, moving down his chest.

He chuckled, going relatively silent as he stared down at her, watching her short fingers snap the buckle to his jeans, slowly drag down the zipper. Roxanne's eyes flickered up to him when he groaned, her hand easing his cock from the confines of his hot jeans.

He had his eyes closed, nostrils flared and chest heaving; the image sent another shock to her crotch, made her thighs tremble. She licked her lips and then the head of his throbbing member, a small small on her lips when his hips jerked beneath her. Roxanne ran her tongue up the side of his shaft, eyes moving up to lock with his, relishing the desperate look on his face.

Finally. . .finally a little bit of power in this whole situation.

He gasped when she took the head into her mouth, her tongue gently teasing the tender underside before she paused. She inhaled through her nose before she slid down, completely engulfing him in one plunge.

"Fuck," Dean barked, hand tangling in the hair at the back of her head. "Oh fuck, Roxanne!"

She hummed in amusement and he bucked his hips up into her mouth, groaning deeply in the back of his own throat. Her tongue rolled around him, applying suction as she pulled back until just the head was between her lips. Roxanne cocked her head slightly before plunging down, but not all the way down this time. His fingers ran through her hair before tugging at the roots, feeling himself quickly climbing towards climax thanks to her mouth.

He growled when she pulled her mouth away, opening his eyes just to see her climb back on top of him, her head thrown back as she enveloped all of him into her pussy. She let out a shuddering moan as she rocked back and forth on him, hands tightening in the fabric over his chest, flexing outwards as he lifted her up with his hands on her hips.

Roxanne rolled her head on her shoulders, licking the precum from his cock on her lips, hooded eyes flickering around his face. Her hips rolled languidly against his, she could feel him swelling inside of her, ready to burst.

Her eyes fluttered closed and she arched back slightly and ran a hand down her stomach, finding her clit; she clenched hard around him, making him groan. She gasped as she slid up and down him, her finger working a frantic circle and her thighs burning to keep pace.

She gasped when he grabbed her and pulled her breasts to him, convulsing and milking his cum as he groaned beneath her, hands stilling her hips against his. She clenched around him as she leaned forward, pulling a hand to her breast and kissing him passionately, her breasts already sensitive to his grip.

His lips pulled from hers, dragging slowly up the corner of her mouth. "How long does this last? Not that I'm looking forward to incredible, tight fucking sex to end."

"A week," she murmured. "Maybe. . .but I will still be as receptive as now for another week afterwards. . ." She hesitated and he saw it.

"What is it sweetheart," his tone was gentle and coaxing.

Roxanne swallowed as he brushed hair back from her face. "You won't let me go after this. . .will you?"

His brow furrowed. "I think we both know the answer to that."

"And the baby," she paused. "If it survives, what will happen to it?"

He didn't say anything to that, his eyes settled on her and unflinching, his entire form still as stone. She stares at him, waiting for him to speak.

She was scared, Roxanne was terrified not just for herself, but the baby growing inside of her. She was to reproduce, should she lose the child she would be thrown immediately into heat to procreate once more. Until she produced an offspring healthy enough to survive, she would be a prisoner of his and her basic urges. She didn't know what happened to the children of Omega's, just knew her body had the ability to create what was called a Pure Demon. What was so pure about a demon, she would never know. Maybe it was because it wasn't created, it was born of royal lineage or pure blood?

Roxanne didn't know, but she did care. She had to. This was the most important thing to her now, she had to protect it even if it meant her death.

"We can only cross that bridge when we come to it," Dean finally spoke. "Until then, you are mine. I will protect you from anything that comes at you. You're mine," he got a disgruntled look to his face. "And I'm yours unfortunately. Mates for life, as animalistic as that sounds."

Roxanne sighed against him, feeling tingles in her belly the longer they sat there, him buried inside of her. "Shower with me," she murmured, eyes flashing. "Get that disgusting smell off of you."

He chuckled as she eases herself off of him, onto shaky feet. He stood, towering over her as he buckled his jeans; Roxanne furrowed her brow at him, concerned he was leaving again. She had to get that smell off of him, she just had to. That musk that belonged to him only was flushed out by this unusual scent. It was as domineering as Dean's scent, but not nearly as pungent or powerful. It was a pathetic demons smell, a cowards.

Roxanne loved showering with Dean, loved the way he seemed to worship her body as he convinced her to let him clean her. It was mildly humorous, such a big man like Dean gently scrubbing her skin and making sure she was nicely polished. The water was warm, her skin was on fire but she didn't want to pin him to the wall and beg him to take her this time. Roxanne was tired, but she wouldn't sleep. She wanted to stay awake, she wanted to talk to him, ask him more questions than what she had so far.

"How long will you keep me in here," Roxanne questioned as she sat on the end of the bed, slowly toweling off her hair.

Dean shrugged, jeans on and hair disheveled, grabbing his shirt from the chair they had violated. "Whenever your heat is over," he said plainly. "Don't feel like fighting off any dumbasses unless I choose to."

Roxanne nodded. "And then? I'm never going to be alone, am I?"

Dean shook his head and she watched him unceremoniously drop to his knees in front of her. She blinked a couple of times, eyes following the hand that brushes her hair back from her eyes, the wet strands making her skin tremble; the room was hot but her skin was chilled, un-aroused.

"I can't lose you," he murmured and she held her breath. "My brother is hunting for you. I don't know what he'll do, I have the feeling he'll kill you because you're pregnant. On the other hand, he has two angels in his pocket so I don't know. They'll probably try to save you or some shit. . .that seems to be Castiel's thing."

"Castiel," the name was weird on her tongue.

A weird look crosses Dean's features, something like regret. "Just an old friend," he muttered and then grunted as he pushed himself up. "I'll be gone for awhile, got some stirring upstairs and I need to peek in," he paused with a hand on the knob. "Don't leave this room. Don't even go near the door, got me?"

Roxanne nodded fiercely and Dean nodded back; she had no intentions of leaving this room. As the door shut and locked behind Dean, a thick waft of other males burst into the room, quickly dissipating. But Roxanne whimpered anyway, pushing herself to her feet and began to pace around the room. She didn't expect him to stay with her all the time, he had said he was the King Of Hell, he must have been busy most days and Roxanne would have to be patient. She just clung to the fact that she would be able to go out at some point.


	5. Chapter 5

Maybe giving into her basic urges and her blood wasn't going to be such a bad thing, especially if Dean was going to wake her up like this every chance he got.

Roxanne woke up mid-moan, squirming on the sheets with his hands braced tight against her hips, the nearly innocent swipe of his tongue on the subtle bump in her lower abdomen making her burn for him to fill her. It'd been nearly two weeks since she had first woken up in that cell and she feels like she's been asleep the whole time.

Well, aside from waking up to him ready to fuck her, feed her or bathe her. She had planned on waking up and asking him if she could go outside, but this was a lot better than her original idea.

"Dean," Roxanne grunts and trembles when the rough heel of his right hand drags up between her breasts, her shirt bunched in his hand. "Please," she whimpered for no real reason.

His fingers tightened in her shirt, exposing her breasts to the warm air of their room but her nipples still swelled. She squirmed at the lack of friction on the sensitive parts aching and throbbing for attention; her pussy was on fire with his mouth nibbling around it but just out of reach of her nerves. She was panting with need, wiggling to get her breasts to rub against his arm but they just trembled, she was received no touch.

He chuckled against her belly and the vibrations tingled all through her, making it all so much worse. She panted and arched against his mouth, absolutely loving the way it felt against her, even if he didn't reach what she wanted.

"If that means you're gonna ask for more then say it again," Dean said roughly as he climbed up her body.

Roxanne groaned as he trailed his fingers along the swell of her stomach. "Dean. . ." She hissed and nipped at his ear lobe. "Either do something, or knock it off."

He chuckled into her hair, making Roxanne close her eyes to enjoy the sound. It had to be instincts making everything he did beautiful, because that chuckle was one of his better ones. Roxanne gasped when his fingers stroked her through the fabric of her shorts, the wet spot forming sending a chill through her despite his intense body heat.

"Slow response," he mused, her tongue darted put against his throat, coaxing him. "Or maybe not," he pulled back to catch her lips in his own, groaning when her teeth knocked against his.

Her eyes flickered open when he pulled back, his free hand flattening against the small of her back, leveraging her to strip her of the garments. The bright aquamarine of her eyes was stunning, rippling like water; to think such a color came from their coupling.

"Don't tease me today, Dean," Roxanne murmured. "I'm not in that kind of mood."

Dean raised an eyebrow before pinning her beneath him. "If that's how you want it," he muttered and pressed his knee against her wet folds. "But you're gonna have to work for it."

Roxanne growled under her breath but began to rock against his knee. Her labored breathing brought his hand down to her clit, rubbing tenderly against it. The scent of her being completely turned on flooded his nostrils, made every part of him as sensitive as her. The scent was slick, the slipperiness against his knee told him that, spurred him on. He could smell she was pregnant, it was a warm and sweet scent, nearly soothing to his primal side. His purpose was fulfilled but she was still working through her heat, the lingering traces and it made him as hard as when she first was brought to him.

Plus, he kind of liked the way she looked wriggling beneath him, skin flushed and shiny, head thrown back. . .

"I hate you sometimes you know that," she groaned.

Dean smirked. "But you love me more."

Roxanne rolled her eyes. "Maybe I do," she hooked one leg behind his back and yanked him closer. "I said don't tease me."

"Yes ma'am," he said, feigning a shocked tone behind his cocky smirk.

Roxanne bucked against his knee and then ground her teeth, actually managing to flip him over. He grinned up at her as they bounced on the bed, her hair spilling over her shoulder in dark waves as she just stared down at him. She hadn't been able to do that before, and he wasn't just letting her do that either. Her eyes flickered to her hands that splayed against his upper arms, keeping him pinned; she could feel him slightly struggling beneath her but there was simply no give.

"Take charge baby girl," he was purring again, purring and stroking a hand over her ass that swayed at the door, like a happy cats tail. "What chu wanna do, princess?"

"For starters," she licked her lips, leaning down experimentally to nip at his throat; he responded with a muffled groan. "Don't call me princess," her voice was low as she trailed a hand flat down his chest.

He chuckled pulled her by her ass closer against him, eyes obsidian when she looked into them. Again, they reflected the glow of her eyes and she felt that familiar heat stirring from her belly, shooting to her core, pushing out the scent of estrous into the air. His nostrils flared at the smell and he growled, his fingers digging painfully into her hips. His hands jerked when his thumbs pressed too close to her abdomen. Roxanne pulled a hand down, covering the tender swelling, eyes flickering to his.

"You won't hurt it," she murmured, pulling one of his hands back to it.

He swallowed and ran his hand back and forth against it, feeling the still tender but firming swell beneath her skin. She placed a hand over his, her face reading fear and anxiety, but also comfort.

Roxanne peered up at him from under her brow and kept his hand firm there, bending down to kiss him. He pressed up against her and she pulled her hands back, wiggling out of her shorts without breaking contact. Dean picked up his hips, helping her move his pants down enough to palm his hardened tool. He growled into her mouth when she hunched her hips forward, stroking her folds up and down his shaft. She was so hot on him, he had to fight everything to just plunge into her, he was aching to fill her. Just to fuck her, just to have her tiny body beneath him, against him. . .

"Dean," she moaned into his ear, finally letting him inside of her, so slow it hurt his teeth. "Dean," she rolled her hips against him.

His hands found her ass, pulling her slowly against him, left hand running up her chest and grabbing her breast as she sat up. Roxanne's nails dug into his chest and she crooned as she stroked up and down, her thighs trembling. She wasn't nearly as sensitive as the week prior, when it was solidly about her pregnancy. But the sex was still amazing, still fulfilling and beautiful. Her eyes opened to slits and she looked down at Dean, his own eyes on hers and locking.

 _Oh shit_. . .

Her eyes rolled back and she quakes, not feeling him filling her; his face was determined and clouded with lust but he had yet to climax.

Roxanne let out a shrill cry of pleasure as she came, shaking on top of him as one of his busy hands kneaded her breast, other hand keeping her pace even though she was weak. Her muscles milked at his cock, dragging him deliciously over the edge. He groaned and the tendons struck out on his throat, hips stilling as he pumped his cum deep into her. Her shaky right hand came up to rub small circles on her belly, the beginning of her womb that was tingling with the sudden flush of her insides. It struck out through her, sent a warmth through her muscles and renewed her need to fuck.

Instincts were a bitch because she now only wanted to sleep.

But he was raring to go.

Roxanne let out a shrill squeak as he rocked them over, pinning her to the mattress and hiking her right leg up against his hip. She arched her back as he continued to thrust into her, her fingers dragging over his shoulders and down his biceps, across his chest. Touch him, she just had to touch him, had an undeniable need to have every bit of him violated by her fingertips. Roxanne groaned loudly as he bent his head down, suckling at the healed scar of his mark, tongue prodding the sensitive scar tissue. She gasped and moaned, her hips bucking up against his, easily reaching yet another orgasm that had him flooding her insides again.

She could do this over and over again, until her muscles ached and she couldn't breathe. Roxanne loved the way he hunched over her, protecting her with his mass and his strength. It was safe love making, she had never felt so safe, had never yearned to be in someone's arms so damn badly. . .

"You're heavy," she grunted in his ear as he tried to catch his breath above her.

He turned his head, pressing a delicious kiss to her lips. "One more time," he grunted. "We have intruders and my cock is still hard."

 

~~~

 

He'd move her.

Sam knew this.

As did Castiel and Gabriel, but like he said, they grab who they can. Still, when they burst into the Underground, Castiel disappears, much to Gabriel's dismay but he assures Sam everything will still go as planned and they push forward. A trick from their grandfather drops demon after demon that get in their way. Gabriel dances -- literally -- around the stoic Winchester, much to his annoyance.

Out of all the angels, he gets the goofball.

"Any idea where Crowley is being held," Sam asks, pressing his back against a right angle turn.

Gabriel peeks around the edge of the wall and ducks back when a bullet whizzes past his head. "I'm guessing that way considering the build up of demons. . .I can handle this, I need you to go after Cas."

Sam gives Gabriel a bewildered look. "You just told me -"

"Yeah, well I can feel him panicking through the waves. If Castiel panics like this, you know it has something to do with Dean. And if you're brother kills mine -"

"I get it, I get it," Sam grumbles and checks his clip, peeks around the corner and sees the demons. "Sure you got this," he gave Gabriel a concerned look.

The angel cackled and pushed up, grabbing Sam's face to give him a heart stopping kiss. "I got this my little moose," he winked and Sam scowled. "I'm an archangel after all, you don't give me nearly as much credit as you should."

Sam huffed as he began to back away. "Excuse me if I don't take the archangel who tried to glue one of my nipples to a lollipop seriously."

Gabriel chuckled. "Oh whatever, just go find my brother, okay?"

Sam nodded once, hesitated, but Gabriel was already rounding the corner. He kept the gun out in front of him, slowly becoming more on edge when he ran into no demons.

Well, until the temperature physically went up to an annoying, sticky heat and there were several dropped demons every few feet. The familiar scorch marks on their skin said Castiel had been through here, which was only of marginal comfort to Sam. What the Hell was Cas doing? Judging by the bodies, he was pissed and in a hurry because only half were actually dead, a handful were still groaning and twitching.

Sam sighed in relief when he rounded the next corner, looking down a long corridor and seeing Cas the end of it. He wasn't moving but his hands were clenched tight at his sides, when Sam got closer, he noticed the red door Cas was standing in front of. The source of the heat had to be coming from in there because now it was hard to breathe, sweat was running down his forehead.

And there were muffled groans from a deep voice coming from the other side of the door.

"Cas," Sam hissed, grasping the angels shoulder and shaking him out of the daze he was in. "Cas, what the Hell are you doing?"

Cas pointed at the door. "She is in there, with him. I came for her, she cannot be allowed -"

There was a sharp scream -- or rather squeak -- from the opposite side of the door and Sam's heart beat went into overdrive.

Though Cas could handle it, Sam pushed the angel aside and kicked the door open in one thrust. Dean was hunched over the woman, back muscles rolling as he sank his teeth into her, pulling another sharp cry from her lips, had her arch her back. Hips rolled and Dean growled, a growl that sent chills over Sam's arms but he stepped into the room, gun aimed at his brothers back; if he had to. . .

"Dean!"

The girl -- Roxanne, he had to remind himself -- went slack beneath Dean, blood on her clavicle running back and over the slope of her throat. It was smeared across Dean's lips as he sat up, still buried inside of her.

His eyes were black, locked on Sam and the gun in his hand. Slowly, a smirk stretched across Dean's lips and he peeled himself away from Roxanne, who was at attention immediately. When she saw Sam, she yelped and scrambled to her feet, hiding behind Dean, which briefly confused Sam, but he said nothing.

"I expected as much," Dean purred. "I knew that lil bitch Crowley was doing something to get the word out, didn't think he would go for you though. . ."

"Just want the girl, Dean," Cas stepped into the room and Dean's shoulder went ridged, eyes darting to the defeated angel. "Just give her to us and we'll leave."

"Like Hell I'm letting her go," Dean snarled in that inhuman voice. "I'll fucking rip you all to shreds before you can lay a finger on her."

"He's you're brother, Dean," Roxanne whispered in that sharp voice. "I can smell you all over him."

"And you're mine," he didn't even look back at her. "He's not going anywhere with you."

Just as he said it, Castiel leapt at her but was knocked back with Dean's firm arm striking him in the chest. There was a gross crunch and Cas crumpled against the wall, groaning in pain. Sam's eyes were wide and he fired at Dean, who ducked, taking Roxanne to the floor with him.

He rocked back on the balls of his feet and shot forward, grabbing Sam by the waist and tackling him to the ground. His gun clattered off to the side and Sam let out a choking sound as pain splintered through his ribs. He rocked back and forth trying to catch his breath while Dean rose to his feet, chest heaving as he swept his head around to Castiel. He was swaying to his feet and was staring at Roxanne; she was cowering on the edge of the bed, legs curved beneath her as she stared up at him in fear.

" _Stay the fuck away from her!_ " Dean roared and grabbed Sam's gun from the floor.

Cas looked up with wide eyes when Sam let out a strangled 'No!', seeing Dean stalking towards him with obsidian eyes.

He didn't hear the three bullets fire, but he sure as Hell felt them. One hit Cas in his chest, right shoulder and the last scraped over his right cheek. Pain shot through him as the bullet whizzes past his head, but not before leaving behind a bloody gash, taking the tip of his ear. He sputtered and shook, falling backwards with his eyes begging Dean for mercy. Blood welled behind his teeth, soaking beneath the fabric of his trench; the bullet lodged in his ribs ached.

Dean stood over him, black eyes showing no mercy as he leveled the gun with Castiel's head. Roxanne watches with wide eyes, her nostrils flared. Her eyes flickered between the barrel and the angel, Dean's enraged face.

Castiel raised a shaky hand. "Dean," he sounded like he was choking, he probably was. "Dean, please don't do this. . ."

"I told you she was mine," Dean roared, pulling the hammer back.

Castiel opened his mouth, face creased in fear and begging, and then a heavy mass struck Dean in the side. The gun went off and Roxanne screamed, grabbing at the gash the bullet had carved onto the side of her thigh. She gripped the sheets of the bed and buried her face in them, hearing the roar Dean gave as he struggled with Sam on top of him. He could see Roxanne crying, the blood on her thigh and the vulnerable swelling of her belly.

Dean saw **red**.

He flipped Sam off of him, grabbing the gun again and whipping around to where Sam had crumpled on top of Castiel, who was still begging Dean not to do this.

Dean didn't care, he began to pull on the trigger but there was a clap of thunder and Gabriel was there, looking venomous and far from the holy angel he was supposed to be.

His eyes flickered to Roxanne, who was grabbing Dean by the ankle and then Gabriel's nostrils flared. He raised his chin a little higher and quickly turned around, grabbing Sam and Castiel by the collars of their shirts before they were gone. Dean breathed heavy, staring at the bloody spot on the floor before he dropped the gun and returned his attention to Roxanne.

He picked her up gently, just listening to her whimper against his chest before he set her on the edge of the bed, stretching her out on her side. He cocked his head at the wound, blood seeping around the edges. It wasn't bad, more a scrape than anything but it would take it some time to heal. She shivered when he swiped his tongue over it but he went no further, rolling the tang of her blood around his teeth as he went to get supplies to treat it.

 

~~~

 

"You were foolish for going off like that," Gabriel snapped as he ran a gently glowing hand over his brothers ribs, drawing the bullet out. "If Sam had never been there, Dean would have killed you."

"She is pregnant," Castiel hissed, Sam giving him a mirrored look. "She did not want this."

"Well, the way she was clinging to him and not begging you to save her, I seriously doubt she's there against her will anymore," Gabriel sighed. "He was protecting her. Stay out of it. Once the child is born, that's when we strike. Either we protect it or we kill it, depending on the course the Upstairs wants to go."

"They will want to kill it and you know that."

"Excuse me," Sam piped up. "Protect it? I thought we were all for preventing it in the first place?"

Gabriel shook his head as he raised a hand to the bullet wound on Castiel's chest. "Oh Sammy," Castiel winced as the bullet popped out into Gabe's palm. "You just don't know what's going to happen with that child," he dropped the bullet into a tray of water before eyeing the gnarly wound on Castiel's face.

"What is it," Sam asked, standing from his stool but wincing at the pain in his side. "Why would we protect this if we were trying  so hard to prevent it in the first place?"

Gabriel sighed, placing both hands on his knees and craning his head back to look at his Sammy. Crowley was in the background, curled up on a sofa and actually sleeping, possibly from exhaustion. He had no powers, Dean had sucked him dry when he took over Hell; how he had done such a thing without altering Crowley in any other way was a mystery to even the archangel. He looked up at Sam again, giving him a small half smile.

"The child can possibly end this petty battle between Heaven and Hell. . ."

"But," Sam sighed. "There's always a but. . ."

"The moment that child is born - if it lives - that is when the final horn is blown and the rapture is on our hands."  
   
"And the Seven Years of Fire," Castiel finished gruffly. "When we all have to join a side."

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was one of the biggest pains in my ass. . .anyway, this chapter has been edited and dropped together like a mofo. Spare chapters left in my docs were drug in and torn apart to create this thing and then there were random spurts of inspiration. . .I'm not completely content but we start getting to some seriously fun and kickass-ness soon so hopefully my power-crazy muse will come back and help.

Have you ever realized how utterly insane and fucked up you - and your life - are?

Roxanne did, as soon as her eyes are open and she realizes her heat is over, that she no longer wants to fuck and fuck and fuck. . .when she realizes she's alone and the room is cold but nothing has changed; she's changed.

When she wakes up, her hand is holding onto that swelling in her belly and her heart is hammering out its own war cry in her chest, her red lights are going off in her head, signals that she's finally awake and not under the influence of hormones anymore. Of course, it's still somewhere inside of her, that sickening need to seek Dean out because he was the father of her child and they were mates after all.

Roxanne licked her lips and then vaulted out of the sheets, kicking at them wildly so she's free and on her feet. She grabbed at the clothes on the floor, pulling then on and cringing at their state of despair; the flimsy tank top was torn around her ribs where Dean had grabbed tight and the shorts were a whole other story.

She never wanted this, Roxanne has never wanted to be claimed or fulfill her purpose in life; she'd wanted to be a pretty dancer, she'd wanted to have a child on her own terms. Dean had taken that choice from her and she didn't know if she could ever forgive him for it; but she still loved him somehow.

She could smell them as soon as she pried the door open, her fingers straining in the groove where the jam met the edge of the door; it was so fucking heavy! The scent of other demons flooded her senses as soon as the door was open, making her skin prickle and her instincts on alert. She flexed her fingers at her sides as she stood in the doorway, eyeing the burnt silhouettes from that angels attack and infiltration; Sam and Castiel, if her insight into Dean's insane thought process has shown her anything.

She had never wanted to delve into his mind, but he had been asleep and she was just so curious on what was going on up there. She'd been shown things she had never dreamed of: Monsters she didn't know of, alternate worlds, the apocalypse, how Dean has once been so sweet and caring, had been human and had saved people, had save the world.

She'd also seen the path he took to walk Scott free out of Hell. No eyes, no guards, just a few twists, turns, a climb up some stairs and she would make it out somewhere near a ship yard; abandoned.

She swallowed thickly, trying to figure if this was the right thing or not as she let out a shuddering breath. Yes, she wanted to get out of here and she wanted to be out of Hell but what would Dean do? What would she do? What would Sam and Castiel be able to do with her?

And what about her baby?

She nodded her head once firmly and then ran, sprinting down the hallway; her bare feet slipped against some questionable substance on the floor. What kind of place was this? Was it a warehouse? They hadn't let her see where they took her which made things extra difficult on her end, even if she knew where to go.

What would he do whenever she got out of here anyway? Hopefully she wasn't somewhere too far from help, she didn't want to get caught again. She needed to get a hold of Sam and the other one - she just plain needed help.

Roxanne slid to a stop as she rounded the corner, reaching down to only cringe as her fingers slipped against the wet flooring. Dean was standing in the middle of the hallway, grinning at her in a weird way. Roxanne shook her head and slowly rose to her feet, hands shaking at her sides. There was a soft, wet pat behind her and Roxanne whirled around, heart seizing in her chest when she saw. . .nothing. She blinked a couple of times and then looked forward again - where the Hell did Dean go? She swallowed thickly before she started running again; she was going crazy.

Roxanne sprinted forward again, rounding another corner and almost running smack into a demon. He blinked rapidly as she gave him a terrified glance, stumbling back a few steps. She felt the prickles of fear go up her arms when he grinned down at her.

"Better get a move on, My Lady," he mocked.

Roxanne swallowed and blinked again. When she opened her eyes the demon was gone and there just an empty stretch of hallway in front of her.

"I'm losing my God damn mind," she muttered and moved forward again, avoiding touching the damp walls.

Roxanne peered around the next corner, gripping tight to the wall like it would protect her. She hated this place, maybe if she ever figured out where she was, she would come back and burn it down. And roast some marshmallows. Fucking marshmallows, Roxanne would make it a point to eat so damn many when she got out of this Hell hole - okay, yes she needed to get out of here and now. Roxanne sighed and pushes around the corner, sticking to jogging in case some other mirage wanted to pop out at her.

She placed a gentle hand over her stomach, concern flooding her at the touch. Dean would never hurt her, ever, not even before she was pregnant, even if they had not mated; another structural concern to the Alpha/Omega complex. But him hurting her or any fear of him was not her concern, she just didn't want to be a part of this. If she stayed? If the baby made it? What would she do, become Queen of Hell? Ha! It made her stomach roll at the thought; she'd never wanted to be around other demons, she certainly didn't want to rule them.

"Now, just where do you think you're going," she yelped when she heard that husky voice, whipping around but finding him nowhere in sight. "Oh no, babe, I'm all up in that noggin of yours. Where ya goin, babe? I thought we were havin' fun?"

"I wanna go home," she whimpered, slowly walking backwards, towards her destination. "I-I don't wanna be here anymore, Dean."

"And you thought I was just going to let you walk out of here. . .thought you would never come back to me again if you did make it?"

Roxanne cringed but bit her tongue. "You took my choice away from me," she whispered and shook her head fiercely. "I didn't want to get pregnant, Dean! I-I just wanted to -"

"Be a pretty little dancer," he chuckled and his voice seemed to carry like smoke, fading in and out in the oddest of places. "Wanted to strut your ass around in skimpy clothes and go home and masturbate furiously through your heat? Thought the day would never come when I would find you and your apple-pie life could go on?"

"I just wanted a choice," she wrapped her arms around herself as she sped up. "I wanted it to be me who chose when I got pregnant. . .I certainly didn't choose to be born a demon, why did I have to just go along with everything else?"

He was silent for the longest time and Roxanne breathed a ridiculous sigh of relief, her heart hammering away in her chest the whole time.

From the day she was born, Roxanne had known what she was, how rare she was: A demon born from the womb, not a soul inhabiting her body. But she had grown human, wasn't hindered by the emotionless state those that had no soul were usually stuck with. She would rather not care, then she could have just fucked in her heat, wouldn't be so scared, wouldn't care if she was pregnant.

"Why are you still going," he sounded bored. "I mean, I can just pop my ass in and snatch ya up, you know that right?"

"Yeah," her voice trembled when the door came in sight. "A-And why haven't you," she was honestly curious as to why he has even let her out of the room.

"Maybe I like watchin' that sweet ass of yours run," he hummed.

Radio silence again.

Roxanne stopped in front of the door, staring at the plain, faux gold door handle and she closed her eyes. Amongst the whir of unnecessary machinery in the walls and distant cries of pain, she could hear the ocean from the other side of the door. The promise of fresh light and air made her tingle from her toes to her ears.

But. . .

"What happens if I step outside," she whispered. "What happens if you let me go?"

She heard him him and heard the faint taps of his boots approaching from behind. "Well, you'll find Sam," he stopped somewhere behind her. "And then I'll find you," he paused. "I'll kill Cas, torture Sam a little. . .and then I'll bring the both of you home, probably take his soul again, hold it for ransom. I dunno, whatever mood strikes me depends on the outcome really."

Roxanne ran her tongue over her top lip. "Why are you letting me go," she questioned as she turned the knob, a beam of light cutting between the door and the jam.

"Call it a little social experiment," she could almost see the grim behind the words. "I'll be around too, don't worry babe."

Roxanne trembled once before she eases the door open, the wind picking up her hair as she inhaled deeply the scent of brine. She slowly reopened her eyes and looked back, expecting to see Dean standing just behind her but the hallway was gone and replaced with a dingy shack wall and old, rusted tools. Roxanne furrowed her brow and jogged out of the shack, slightly amazed to see how everything had changed without her noticing.

The door closed on its own and Roxanne took that as her signal to leave, turning tail and running across the grass-cracked old pavement of a parking lot. Phone, she had to find a phone or. . .something. . .did she even know where she was? She certainly didn't know a number to get a hold of Sam or Castiel.

Should she pray?

"It's not necessary," Roxanne jumped from where she was holding for dear life onto the chain link, her eyes tearing from the distant bustle of the street. "I have been watching you, I knew the moment you escaped."

Roxanne ran her eyes over Castiel warily, inhaling that faint scent of dirt that belonged to angels; she'd managed to run into more than a few in her life, even if they didn't realize she knew. Behind him was another angel, a weird little smirk or half smile on his face, tongue peeking blue as he ran it along his bottom lip.

"Gabriel," she whispered and looked back up at Castiel. "Wh-What happens if I go with you?"

"You will be safe," he paused. "As will your child, and we will work on a solution to fix Dean together."

"You can't," she whispered and shook her head fiercely. "H-He's Alpha now, he can't be fixed - its impossible."

Castiel sighed in a deeply annoyed way and began to shrug out of his overcoat while Gabriel shook his head. "Well, that makes things a tad more difficult," he hummed and rocked back and forth on his heels. "Well, lover boy, what do we do now?"

Castiel scowled as he adjusted the coat heavy on Roxanne's shoulders; she looked up with big eyes as she held it close. "We have the time now that she is in our possession," he looked down at Roxanne. "He has not let her go so simply. . .expect some sort of retaliation or. . ."

"Foreplay to the big event," Gabriel clapped his hands together loudly in front of him. "Gotcha, well how about we get momma here back to the bunker. All this stress and running isn't good for the baby."

Castiel nodded and reaches out, frowning as Roxanne flinched at his touch. He gave her shoulder a small squeeze and she felt the mother of all head rushes, a gasp coming from her lips as she collapsed against cold, smooth concrete. There was a snicker somewhere around her but the heavy thump of boots, big hands on her shoulders and for a second, Roxanne was afraid it was Dean and this had all just been some way to screw with her.

But those eyes weren't his deep green, mossy or anything else - it wasn't Dean. It was Sam.

She looked around the room as he helped her to her feet, her hands clinging to his and almost refusing to let go. Bunker. . .Dean didn't like to think of the bunker, but she knew it from what memories he liked to cling to; the memories didn't do this place justice.

"Don' worry darlin'," her head snapped to the man in black that approaches, his smirk actually sympathetic. "We don't plan on touchin a hair on that pretty head of yours."

"Crowley," Sam sighed and tugged on Roxanne, inching her towards one of the chairs at the long table. "Just take a breath," he said with a soothing half smile, crouching down in front of her. "We're not gonna start the questioning right now, we just want you to get comfortable."

"Speak for yourself," Gabriel murmured but didn't push the issue further. "How ya feelin, kiddo?"

Roxanne creased her brow, eyes flickering between all of the men staring at her. "I uh. . ." She wrapped her arms around her middle, the edges of Cas' sleeves eclipsing her fingers. "I just. . .really need some time alone to process this, if that's okay."

Sam nodded softly, Crowley just sighed and brushed past the pair, followed by Castiel and Sam's glare. He looked over at Gabriel, who seemed to be waiting for some sort of signal. Sam hesitated then nodded, which Gabriel gave his own nod to before he let his arms drop to his sides and followed after Castiel and Crowley.

"We're really sorry about this," Sam frowned as he looked back to Roxanne. "We tried to get to you before hand but. . .Dean had more connections and plans than we expected."

"You're his brother," Roxanne murmured. "You should have known Dean better than that. . ."

"That's what Gabe said," Sam sighed and rose to his full height, cocking his head at Roxanne. "We're gonna figure this out in due time, I promise," he paused. "But we're not gonna throw any of that shit on you just get, right now I'm gonna go find you somewhere to sleep and we'll get you comfortable."

Roxanne nodded softly, looking down as Sam left the room. What else could she do? What was there to figure out? Was she missing something? It felt like it, with the way they were acting; it could just be her imagination though, there was no real way to tell unless she asked them straight up.

Roxanne sighed and looked around before she shakily rose to her feet, feeling the need to give Castiel his coat back. But she didn't have anything else to wear but the scarce clothing Dean had brought her.

She looked back over her shoulder, seeing Gabriel and Crowley arguing over something from a couch, Castiel glaring at them from his spot on the arm rest. No. . .no, it was too soon to deal with that, so she turned in the opposite direction to try and find something to do.

She began to shuffle down a curved hallway, peeking into each room she passed with only mild curiosity. Most of the doors were shut, save for two or three and the first was only a blank concrete room, the next two had to belong to the boys. One was neat and clean, save for the candy wrappers on the desk and one of the bedside tables. The next room was neat but was loaded like an armory, weapons stretched over the available wall space, a faded family photo under a dimly lit lamp.

Dean's room.

Roxanne trembled once and back out of the room, shutting it firmly behind her and breathing a sigh of relief with the act.

She adjusted Castiel's coat and jumped when she heard something clatter down the hall and Sam's gruff voice muttering a curse. She cocked her head and followed the noises, furrowing her brow when she found Sam glaring at a set of instructions.

"You work fast," she muttered, eyeing the bed that was already half together.

Sam looked between her and the bed, smiling sheepishly. "Nah, Dean was the one working on this room," he paused. "We were gonna. . .have Cas move in, but then Dean went AWOL so. . ."

Roxanne nodded softly. "He cared for Castiel before me. . .didn't he?"

Sam cringed slightly, setting the instructions down on top of an empty box. "I. . .maybe, who knows? I think he was confused because Cas obviously liked him. . .not really something I care to talk about."

Roxanne shrugged. "I just. . .had to see if what was going on his head was real or not."

Sam gave her a confused look. "What?"

She looked up, expression slightly spooked. "Oh uh. . .his head. . .now that we're, I guess because we're mated, we can see into each others head and memories, our dreams. Before it was just him able to do it. . .but the other night I was going through his dreams and. . .he really cared for both you and the angel."

"But he doesn't anymore," Sam grumbled.

"No," she said plainly. "He only cares about me. . .I think, that's how its supposed to go anyway," she sighed. "He'll come for me, you know this? He said he let me go for a reason. He's probably watching us right now."

Sam shrugged and snatched up the instructions again, wrapping them into a tube in his hands. "I don't really care," he shook his head. "You're staying here with us and that's final."

Roxanne sighed but gave him a small smile. "Sounds like a plan," he smiled at her, a little more hopeful. "So, how about we start with a shower?"

Sam chuckled, gesturing for her to follow him. "Follow me."

* * *

Roxanne sighed as she leaned back into the pillows, wrapped in one of Sam's shirts against her will; he insisted, she said no, and then Gabriel forced her into it which was actually enough to make her laugh.

She hadn't laughed since even before Dean had taken her.

Roxanne sighed as she pushed back her wet hair and she ran her hands over her swollen belly, slightly concerned about how fast she was growing. Did all Omega pregnancies go this fast? She wished she could tell, had some sort of evidence, but they had admitted they found squat when it came to Omega's; Alpha's were a whole other story thanks to Lucifer.

"What are we gonna do, baby," she whispered, looking up at the ceiling.

She hadn't heard from or felt Dean since he had let her to, which caused a whole new set of concerns for Roxanne. She was alone basically, craving the demon she was now mildly terrified of; he was her mate, she supposed it only made sense.

But did he really want her back?

"Knock knock," Roxanne looked to the door, past the empty boxes to Gabriel; he flashed a green ball of sugar wrapped in a clear plastic. "Figured you would want somethin' sweet, you're screwed if you want something salty. Sam doesn't like that stuff in here," he plunked down on the end of the bed. "He's a bit of a kill joy."

Roxanne smiles at him, taking the sucker with hesitant fingers. "You're all so nice," she muttered. "Considering what I am. . .what I'm carrying."

Gabriel shrugged watching her unwrap the sucker. "Team Free Will for ya, everyone has a choice and we make sure of it," he frowned and she popped the sucker between her lips, giving him a patient look. "Wish we could have gotten there before. . .well, ya know."

Roxanne looked down at her stomach, rolling the stem of the sucker between her fingers. "Its okay," she muttered and pushed her hair back again. "Its not like I wasn't a willing participant," she paused. "Sex was amazing."

At that, Gabriel let out a bark of laughter. "At least you have some sort of humor about this," he pursed his lips. "Are you okay though? I mean seriously, I'm not a feels guy but I'm a little surprised you're not freaking out or something."

Roxanne shrugged, looking down at her lap as she pulled the sucker from her mouth. "I guess I'm not freaking out because I've known what I was. If I had been oblivious to my heritage I guess you would get more of a freak out from me."

Silence, Roxanne was thankful for the silence. Honestly, she had cried her heart out in the shower, had gotten everything out of the way, was still having a minor freak out in her head but she didn't want to be consoled by these people, she just wanted to be protected or whatever; she wasn't safe, but she was away from that literal Hell hole. Dean would come for her eventually, he has basically told her when he let her go. But she just. . .she needed to figure things out, needed to figure out where she would go from here, how long she could resist the tug from him. If he didn't come for her, she would eventually seek him out again, maybe they could help her around that; impossible.

"Lucifer," she murmured. "If I could. . .if I could get Lucifer to fix this -"

"Hell to the no," Gabriel barked and Roxanne peered up from under her hair, pushing the sucker back into her mouth. "Lucifer won't become a part of this, we're gonna figure something out but that'll be a last resort - if we even consider it."

Roxanne hesitated then nodded. "Fair enough," she paused. "I think I'm gonna get some sleep."

Gabriel quirked his lips in the corner, patting her knee as he stood. "Get all that you can, we start the tedious process of questioning and probing tomorrow."

Roxanne sighed. "Just don't make too much noise."

He snickered. "I can't promise anything, Sammy is quite the screamer."

* * *

 


End file.
